Just Ordinary Boys
by swaggersaur
Summary: Quinn and Santana had three things in common – the tiring need to overcompensate, the overwhelming urge to jump the bones of certain fellow schoolmates, and the painful dysphoria that comes with being born as the wrong gender. It was just about time they did something about it was all. Transgender / FTM themes Quinntana friendship: Brittana & Faberry / equal storylines
1. Chapter 1

**Just Ordinary Boys**

* * *

_**Author's Note**: A few things here are AU, but you'll understand as you read on. If something doesn't seem in the Glee-verse, it's probably intended. Senior year just ended for Santana and Quinn; disregard the entire senior year in Glee. Love interests will be introduced later on, probably in part 3. Planning on around 5 parts to this nonsensical (?) piece; I'm tired and I'll grammar/spell check it another time. This is an introductory chapter so it has a few time skips here and there. Please leave a **review** if you've got the time! Enjoy!_

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**Part I: Die a Man**

The room was a depressing shade of black, the intricate decals lining the walls barely seen in the dim lighting the lamps had been set to. The bed sheet and pillows were tossed aside on the floor, the bed instead stacked with piles and piles of clothing pulled from the very back of Santana's closet, cleverly hidden by rows of tight skirts, glittery dresses, and revealing tops. The clothes currently resting on the bed, however, were the farthest thing from feminine. The epitome of masculinity, as Santana would point out with a smirk – some slowly taken from Santana's dad's own closet and some carefully purchased under the guise of a present for a make-believe boyfriend or a non-existent brother. Quinn could only smile, hands itching to hold the scratchy and silky suits and dress shirts and v-necks that waited so eagerly to be worn.

This was the routine as they knew it. After a chillingly miserable week of donning skin-tight cheer uniforms and showing off their bodies and generally _overcompensating_, the two would retreat to Santana's room for a Friday night sleepover. Of course, the time wouldn't be spent talking about boys and school and rumors, but the first order of business would be to lock the doors. Then came rummaging through the closet and pulling out Santana's hidden collection of masculine clothing.

"Pass me my belt?"

"Yeah, here. Toss me the black tie over there?"

"This one?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, catch."

Looking into the mirror after donning the clothes, Quinn and Santana could see two dapper, young gentlemen staring back at them in the mirror, dressed in the finest suits and with hair tied back and hidden under hats.

And that's when Quinn felt as if he – yes, _he_ – could finally smile and that's when Santana felt more like him – yes, _him_ – self.

They tried to stay as silent as possible, careful not to break the fragile illusion; Together, they'd stand, staring into their reflections and believing, if only for the moment, that this was their lives now. This was Santana and Quinn, students of William McKinley Highschool, sons of Mister and Missus Lopez and Fabray, and… just ordinary boys.

The routine today was just like every other week, except for one difference – high school was over. Summer was beginning, and Santana couldn't help but feel disappointed, both in himself and in everything going on.

"God, Quinn. Remember how we promised one day, this wouldn't be just a _Friday_ thing? How we said we'd make this a _life_ thing?"

"What are we supposed to do? Just show up to school dressed like this? We'd be called the biggest dyk-"

"Well, we'd correct them. We're not gay, we're _guys_."

"Because that'll go over _real_ well with all the ignorant people in our schools, wouldn't it? I mean, since homophobic people are just _so_ understanding of everything not fitting with the social norms that transgendered people won't be a new field of _freak_ to them."

Santana rolled his eyes at his best friend while slowly unbuttoning the dress shirt he had so lovingly put on. The illusion was broken and wearing these clothes only filled him with a painful stab of self-hatred.

"_Freak_," He'd hear in his head, "_Freak. You can't ever be a guy. Look at you trying. It's not working! You might as well give up; you'll never be even half a man."_

"Alright, so I'm being a little defensive. You know how our parents are though, Santana! They'd completely kill us!"

"Maybe, but look… I don't know about you, but living like this is killing me slowly, and at this point, a fast death by parent seems like a pretty good deal."

Quinn sighed, pulling at the tie around his neck.

"You're right."

Santana raised an eyebrow; Quinn's stubborn nature, a trait the two shared, usually led to more arguing.

"But it's not like we have a _choice_, San."

"I can't do this anymore, Quinn. We've been overcompensating all these years, being co-captains of a fucking _cheerleading_ squad, going to bed with all those jocks, and I'm sorry, dude, but I'm not gay! If I see another penis that isn't mine, I'm going snap it in half."

"Idiot, you don't have a penis."

"Fuck you."

"I thought you said you weren't gay."

The two boys glared at each other before breaking out into laughter.

"But seriously, I'm done. I'm done with cheerleading and I'm done with boys. I'm done with breasts too."

Santana, naked except for his briefs and bra, unclasped the back of the complicated support bra and spent a few minutes fiddling it loose and pulling it up and over his head. He almost never took off that bra, opting to flatten it with a binder; his reasoning was simple. His chest was completely flat and clean, except for the scars that ran underneath where his breasts used to be. He held the strange bra in front of himself, raising and eyebrow at the soft, water ballon like pods that rested in the cups of the bra. Whenever he took off the bra completely, with the false breasts included, he felt a bout of dysphoria, unhappy knowing that despite his surgery, he had to live with those fake breasts on.

"It's funny how your mom and everyone at school seriously believes you got a boob job."

"I did have a boob job. Although it was more of a boob job to get rid of them. God knows how hard it was to get that whole plan to work, and I'm shocked it worked as well as it did. Well, breasts are so irritating. I don't understand why girls would ever want huge tits."

"I'm jealous, you know. I wish I could get rid of these stupid… growths."

"Damn, though. I have to wear these fake things every single day. You know how much that sucks? It's like I removed my breasts only to get newer, bigger ones flaunted. Guess what. I'm never going to wear these fake boob things again."

Santana tossed the bra with the pods included to the ground, kicking one of the watery balloons to the other side of the room.

"Good riddance."

Quinn looked down at his chest, the binder he used before discarded on the bed; his breasts were fortunately never too big, but they often frustrated him and made him feel emasculated. He hated it when guys would look at them and the way the cheer uniform would make them stand out.

"You know what Santana? You're right. I'm burning my cheerleading clothes. Every time I put on that uniform, I feel like dying."

"Exactly! Like we need to show off the things we wish would crawl off our bodies and go die somewhere."

The space between the two friends turning silent once again, Santana stared into his reflection. Sure, his chest was flat and his stomach was toned – the one part of his body he felt comfortable about – but the scars reminded him of bad times, his hips jutted out in that feminine way he hated, his ass felt ten times too big for his body, his face felt too soft and pretty, his hair was too long and beautiful, and he wished he didn't sound and look so womanly. Glancing at Quinn, he knew his best friend felt the same way, and he drew the blonde boy in for a tight hug.

"I can't live like this anymore, Quinn. I hate living in these few fleeting moments like this. I hated every single day all through high school and I hate dreaming and wishing and wanting."

"Yeah."

Embracing the sniffing Hispanic boy, Quinn drew his eyebrows in a tight line, almost angry at himself.

"Santana, let's make a vow. From today on, we're done. We're done being so damn scared of our parents, our friends, ourselves. We're done living this fantasy life and we're done making ourselves miserable living it. We're done being the epitome of femininity and we're done not being… well… _ourselves_."

"Damn straight."

Silence overtook the two, who separated and held their breaths as the minutes ticked on by, thinking. Their minds were fluttering to and fro, bits and pieces of regret and consequences weighing heavily in the back of their heads. Quinn was the first to break the silence.

"I'm scared."

"After that inspiring monologue you just delivered?"

Santana nudged the taller boy and the two broke out into laughter, the tears gathering in the corner of their eyes a compounded sense of agony.

"But seriously, though, Quinn. I'm scared too, but you're completely right. We can't live like that anymore. We let fear take away our whole entire lives until now, and frankly, I'm done with this bullshit. The more time passes, the more I feel besides myself. I seriously can't live like this anymore. I want to give _me_ a chance."

Voice trembling, Santana looked straight into Quinn's eyes, determination etched on his face. Still, doubt lingered at the edge of his words, and Quinn knew that what he replied with would be the deciding factor. Clearing his throat and closing his eyes, Quinn tried to imagine. He tried to imagine the best case scenarios, but they were hard to think of. He tried to imagine years in the future, living as Quinn, beautiful housewife to some successful business man, a caring mother for three children and the definition of woman. And the definition of _miserable_, she added silently. Then she tried to imagine now, dying as Quinn, a young, lost, lonely boy named Quinn. No, she corrected herself, a young, lost, lonely, _happy_ boy named Quinn.

"Then it's settled. Let's try for happiness."

* * *

Quinn was close to hyperventilating as she sat in front of the vanity mirror. Behind her stood Santana's cousin, Rico, a long time friend and confidant of the two boys. Currently wielding a pair of scissors and a razor, he smirked at the fearful blonde. The boy's long, blonde hair was one of the roots that kept him grounded in his false identity as the picture perfect Christian cheerleader. As soon as the scissors got close to his neck, he quickly jerked away from Rico.

"Ah, come on Quinn. I'm in an art college! I'm pretty sure I can use a pair of scissors."

"Just because you go to an art college does not make you a licensed hair dresser." Quinn snarled.

"Continue being rude to the man with the sharp weapon near your neck, Quinnie dear."

Grinning, Rico pulled Quinn straight onto the chair and gently grabbed all of the boy's blonde hair into a ponytail and brought the scissor to the base of it. He waited until Quinn closed his eyes and gave a curt nod of his head, signaling his permission to go through with it. The scissors came down and the hair dropped to the floor in a fell swoop.

"Shit, Rico. Don't get too much hair all over my floor." Santana complained, entering her bedroom with three water bottles in hand. It had been a full day since the two boys' decision and already, they were taking the steps they found necessary to begin living as themselves rather than living as they were expected to live.

"Okay, listen up Quinn. Here's the plan. Since we both decided to start college a bit later in the year, we'll be able to make as best of a transition now. We don't even have to be scared of being outed to our friends, since most of them will be in college or on vacation by the time we have any remarkable changes. Also, we'll stay at Rico's apartment since I'm not planning on coming out to my parents yet, and I'm sure you're not either…?"

"Yeah, talking to them now will probably ruin my chances of ever beginning transition. Go on."

"Since we're both eighteen, we can start taking testosterone, but one problem. We need to see a gender therapist to get the okay go on that, so Rico contacted one for us, since he knows a few people in the community."

"The perks of having a gay cousin, am I right, tigre?"

"Yeah, uh, don't call me that. Also, we have all the clothes we need packed up and ready to go, and you got permission from your mom to leave?"

"Yup. I told her Yale was having an early acceptance summer program or something. Can't believe she bought it."

"I told you it'd work. Rico lives literally two towns over so after we get our haircuts, we're leaving, alright?"

"Alright. Can't we say goodbye?"

"Really, Quinn?" Santana rolled his eyes at the boy.

"So you're just going to leave Brittany in the dust about all this?"

"I… I don't feel like it's in my best interest to."

"Or is fear of rejection getting in the way, hm?" Cocking an eyebrow, Quinn turned his head to smirk at Santana, an action that was received very poorly by Rico.

"Stay still, Quinn, or I swear I will use these scissors to give you more than a haircut."

"Sorry." Quinn quickly apologized, straightening his head for Rico's convenience, "But seriously. Santana's got this big thing for Brittany."

"What? I- I mean, I could say the same about you a-and that Berry girl, couldn't I?"

"Are you really going to go there?"

"Oh, I think I just did."

"So you went there."

"Generally, yes, that is the action which just occurred."

Rico sighed as the two boys began bickering, peeved at their constant fighting, but happy knowing the two had a brotherly bond that would and did help them through the most difficult times of their lives. It was something he lacked when we was still attending his conservative, narrow-minded high school; there were no other openly gay kids in his class and it had been rather hard for him to have to put on his best smile every day and act as if he agreed with all the hateful things he would hear daily.

"So are you guys planning on changing your names?"

"Not really. I feel like gender wise, Quinn can be either or. And I kind of like the name."

"Same with Santana. It's pretty much a guy name, as far as I'm concerned. It's my name."

"You just like that name because Brittany told you the first time she heard your name, the first thing that came to her mind was a hot, Hispanic man."

"What? That's a lie! That never happened! Also, I _am_ a hot, Hispanic man. And you probably want to keep your name because… because Q comes before R in the alphabet and Rach-"

"What the hell? What kind of logic is that?"

"You want to fight me?"

After two hours of bickering and stressful hair cutting, Rico stepped back and examined his work on the two boys. Quinn's hair was short but he made sure to give him bangs; they seemed to suit his face better. He looked every bit the handsome, all-American, pretty boy that girls would immediately fawn over. With Santana's hair, Rico decided to try something more edgy. He cut it into a faux hawk, the sides cut clean and gelled to a tip. Definitely brought out the sexy badass in Santana, he thought to himself. Smiling at his handiwork, he stepped back and let the boys stare into the mirror.

"Damn, Rico! I feel like I should pay you!"

Santana was pleased, running his hand on the short, soft patches of hair on the sides of his head. Quinn was in awe, looking down at the long strands of his blonde hair that were strewn all over the floor.

"I am _good_. Now let's stop stalling. Grab your bags and we'll head out in a few hours. Make sure to say goodbye to Lima and lady Quinn and girl Santana!"

* * *

The following months had been good to Santana and Quinn. Following the move to Rico's apartment came the phone calls verifying the therapy sessions and despite Santana's reluctance to sit in a therapist's office for a few hours a day and Quinn's hesitation to trust a complete stranger with his life secrets, the two made it through the excruciatingly personal sessions without so much as a scratch. The approval letter for testosterone came a week earlier for Quinn than it had for Santana, mostly because Santana refused to talk the first week of therapy, but Quinn was more than willing to wait for Santana to receive his letter. Even though he was eager to get his shots already, Quinn felt compelled to wait for his best friend, the one person he couldn't stand not having besides him each step of the way.

The first shot of testosterone both boys received was about one month after their move to Rico's place and Rico couldn't help but scoff at the two squirming boys as they sat in the doctor's office. When the nurse stepped into the room with two sharp needles in her hands, he was sure that his two favorite boys would faint. Santana eventually bit his lip and let the nurse inject the hormones and Quinn was in a stupor at the sight of the needle so the nurse had no problem with injecting him.

Now, five months and about ten shots later, Rico felt the urge to drop-kick the boys out of his apartment. The boys spent the entire summer bumming around his apartment; the two had a schedule they followed almost religiously. They would wake up around five, run down to the gym across the apartment complex while Rico went to his college classes, return around noon, and proceed to obnoxiously laze around his living room for a good five hours until Rico himself had to physically remove them from his sofa, which was not a pleasant experience for him especially after sitting through three lectures. Then they'd go play in the complex's outdoor basketball court for a few hours until they'd return with food, which Rico could not resist, and again they'd latch onto his couch and play video games until he'd unplug the television out of frustration. Sleep didn't come easily to Rico; the boys would then loudly (and occasionally brutally) banter until they fell asleep.

No matter how hard he tried to get the boys ten yards away from the apartment and gym, Rico could not. He knew they were still self-conscious, having never presented as a man in public, and he knew they were probably still feeling the effects of their bodies' hormone balance shifting. Still, he felt that if he didn't do something soon, they'd refuse to go to their respective colleges, which were only a few months away. The campus was kind enough to allow them ample time to transition once their situation was privately discussed with the head of each college, but taking advantage of said kindness didn't seem like a bright idea to Rico. Every time he tried to talk sense into the two boys, they only scoffed at him and ignored his advice, but even though he wanted to give up on the two, he knew he couldn't. He hated that he was so mature.

"Okay, I've had enough of this!"

Rico unplugged the television for what felt like the millionth time this whole summer.

"Chill, _mom_."

He felt his eye twitching at Santana's sarcasm, and he resisted the urge to throw the television screen at the snickering boys.

"Look. You've both been living here five months. Five months! I hate to be that parental figure, but seriously, you've both got to get your heads on straight. I've paid for all your therapy sessions, all your testosterone shots, and all your new clothes. I don't need to be paid back in cash. All I'm asking for is for you two to give me some respect, okay?"

He knew he somehow reached them when the boys stiffened up, eyes darting away from the Hispanic man and laughter subsiding.

"We _do_ respect you," Quinn said, his voice soft.

"Yeah. Okay, sorry I was being a prick," Santana muttered, leaning back on the couch, "I mean, we really do appreciate what you've been doing for us."

Rico felt a small smile grace his lips; although he should be feeling mad at Santana and Quinn, he knew the two were being sincere and he couldn't help but feel like the bigger brother to these growing boys.

"I just don't understand why you won't leave the apartment complex. Be honest with me, guys. You two can't just keep being hermits. I've told you boys time and time again, but even if I send you two to the market a few blocks away, you both immediately refuse."

His voice was gentler, calmer, and he saw their tense shoulders relax.

"Because we just like it here," grumbled Santana, looking away from Rico.

"What Santana is trying to say is that we're uncomfortable." Quinn quickly supplied, nudging Santana.

"Uncomfortable about what?" Rico smiled, "Look at you two? Maybe you both don't see it, but seriously, when was the last time you both looked into a mirror? Like _really_ looked?"

"I don't know. I avoid mirrors if I can." Santana mumbled as Quinn nodded along.

"Well, look."

Rico rushed into his room and pulled out a light, body sized mirror. Putting it down in front of the television, he forced the boys to stand up in front of it, and they stared at themselves, grimaces still painted on their faces.

"See, you're doing what I used to do." Rico said tenderly, "Back when I was cornered into the closet, I'd look in the mirror and see only my flaws. I'd look at my reflection and I'd think to myself "Who is this ugly guy? His cheeks are too high, his lips are too pursed, and his eyes are too wide. He looks so _gay_." Be honest with me. What are you seeing?"

Quinn and Santana were silent as they stared intently into the mirror as Rico waited for them to begin talking.

"That person there… He's got breasts. He's a man but he's got _breasts_." Quinn whispered, almost ashamed of himself.

"And he doesn't even have a _penis_. A guy without a penis. What a joke. _Ha_." Santana added, his laughter weak.

"And his cheeks are so rounded. Feminine."

"And his lips are too plump."

"And his hips. They jut out so much. They're curvy. Everything is just…"

"…just so damn _feminine_. His eyes."

"His ass."

"His shoulders."

"His nose."

The boys fell silent as Rico nodded his head.

"What are you thinking?" He repeated.

"That the person there is a…" Santana covered his eyes with his hands, trying hard not to cry.

"…a _woman_." Quinn finished, sniffing as he turned away from the mirror.

"And that's where you're wrong." Rico said, voice determined, "You see what you believe. I looked in the mirror and I told myself I was disgusting, abnormal. And that's what I saw. Everything about me that was beautiful became this atrocious, vile thing. I hated myself so much and I could only see what I hated."

He thought back to those days when his life felt off track; thoughts of suicide were a daily event, and he began doing things he'd later regret. The boys weren't being lazy; he figured as much. They were struggling, suffering, and he had to put an end to it, not only for college, but for the sake of their futures.

"And then I began to realize I wasn't so disgusting. I began to realize that I wasn't some monstrosity. I wasn't this huge, walking sin, and my eyes cleared up. The mirror reflects your image, boys. It's your mind that filters out what's really there and makes it something you despise."

The boys looked up at Rico and waited for him to continue.

"Now you two are boys. Men. And it's not just because the testosterone shots. You were boys since the moment you were born and men once you realized it. A body will _not_ change that fact. You are _men_. All the testosterone is doing is matching what's inside with what's outside. And it's doing its job really damn well. I'm looking at you two and that's what I see. _Men_. Look in the mirror again and tell me what you see."

Warily, Quinn and Santana faced their reflections, the frowns on their faces slowly turning upwards.

"Now do you see what I see?"

"You lied to us." Quinn suddenly whispered, frowning again and turning his head towards Rico.

Rico stared back in shock; he was so sure he was finally getting through to them. Did he say something wrong? Were they too far down pity lane to hear him out? Was the shock of suddenly transitioning too much for them? Was the pressures of society getting to them? Was-

"You didn't mention how freaking _sexy_ we were." Santana laughed, relief flooding around Rico as Quinn joined in on the laughter.

"That I did not." He said, grabbing his two favorite boys in the entire world in separate chokeholds, laughing with them as they struggled to escape, "That I did not."

He was content. There were three smiling faces in the room and with the mirror, six.


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N.** _Hey there. Just a quick note; you don't need to be on testosterone to have top surgery, for people who asked me about this. Remember, PM me any questions about trans-topics. I've got resources I can link you to, etc. Don't be afraid to talk to me if you need someone to listen to you as well, if you are struggling with trans-related problems! Another build-up chapter. __**Read and Review!**_

Part Two: Sir and Sir

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"You two ready? The club is calling out our names!"

Rico pulled on his thin windbreaker, making sure to throw his cell phone and wallet into his pocket. A day after their heart-to-heart, Rico planned to take them out to an eighteen-and-up club downtown. The two boys jumped on the chance, their new-found confidence outweighing their longtime insecurities. When he entered the living room, he saw both Santana and Quinn waiting by the door, looking a mix of anxious and excited.

Both boys had grown considerably due to their constant work-outs induced by their body dysphoria as well as their competitive friendship and the extra energy that testosterone was giving them. Although they decided to lay off the gym for a little while following their heart-to-heart with Rico, the extended time spent in the gym did a lot of good for the two. Both boys were a bit broader, and although neither had bulging, hulk-like muscles, the two boys were physically fit and felt good about their bodies, now that they could see they weren't as womanly as they fearfully imagined. _Femininity_, Rico assured them,_ would not make them any less of men_.

They felt fairly confident physically and Santana felt comfortable enough to walk around shirtless a couple of times in the apartment, although he refrained from doing so in the presence of Quinn, knowing his blonde friend did not have top surgery yet. The two prided themselves on having more prominent abs than their old classmate, Sam, and of being more cut than whom Santana referred to now as Little Finny.

Their heights remained fairly consistent and the amount of muscle they gained balanced out with their heights, making them look leaner and cut rather than big and buff. The testosterone and binders helped flatten Quinn considerably, and the hours spent playing basketball helped the two boys tan healthily, although Quinn still looked paler than most. Their hairstyles were the same as before, freshly cut in the morning courtesy of Rico, and Santana even had a small stubble forming on his chin, something he had wanted for a long time and was planning on keeping. Quinn insisted on shaving, something Rico agreed matched his pretty boy looks anyhow.

Testosterone worked wonders on the boys' voices as well. Both boys had deeper, masculine voices, but Quinn had a gentler, raspier tone to his voice while Santana sounded huskier and slightly deeper. The boys were pleasantly surprised when they found that the testosterone did not destroy their chances of singing, a risk they knew they had to take when starting the hormone. Rico smirked, remembering how the two would practice singing to get accustomed to the new vocal range in the living room when they thought he was asleep. Quinn cleared his throat, snapping Rico out of his thoughts.

Santana was dressed in a simple white v-neck and a thin, black cardigan while Quinn opted for the short-sleeved black polo with a loose, red tie. Both boys looked ready to go, although a bit hesitant, so Rico pushed them out the door and quickly got in his car, waiting for the two boys to sit down. He smiled warmly at them through the rearview mirror, grinning when Quinn gave a friendly pat on Santana's shoulder.

"If you two do that throughout the night, you're not going to have luck with the ladies."

Rico laughed when Santana scowled and Quinn glared at him.

"We are _not_ gay!"

"Well, at least I'm not, but Quinn over here has a thing for manhand-"

"Shut up! She's beautiful!"

"I was joking! It was a joke!"

"No one was laughing, you asshole! At least Rachel doesn't have the mind of a six year old!"

"You did _not_ just insult Brittney like that. She's your friend too!"

"Well, sometimes we have to make sacrifices."

Rico sighed as he turned the radio up loud. At least they weren't tense about going out anymore.

* * *

The club was packed with people, but Rico knew the club owner ("Perks of being a gay man," he whispered to the boys) and they were inside within minutes, cutting the long line of annoyed and half-drunk people. Rico patted both boys on the head before going off on his own, trusting the two boys to take care of themselves and each other just fine.

Quinn and Santana sat awkwardly at a table to the side, not used to going to public functions, never mind a club, presenting as male. They did notice a few eyes on them, but the more the others stared, the more they felt that they were being labeled as women. Santana nervously took a huge gulp of his mixed vodka drink; the bartender didn't seem to care whom he was serving although the club was eighteen and up. No matter. More alcohol for him, Santana smirked.

"Why are you two boys sitting off to the side for?"

Santana looked away from the bartender to see a beautiful brunette standing in front of them, a cup in hand. She smiled before grabbing a seat next to them, a group of giggling girls a table over looking over at them constantly.

"We don't really live in this town so it's a bit awkward." Santana quickly said.

"Well, it's a club. Why not let loose? You've both had quite a few drinks." She laughed, pointing at the girls who were still glancing at them with smiles on their faces, "Those are my friends I've come with and they wanted me to ask if you wanted to sit with us? Maybe dance with us?"

"We don't even know you." Quinn quickly stated, crossing his arms.

"Well, my name's Lisa." She winked at Quinn, who blushed at the sight.

"My name's Quinn."

"Santana."

"Unique. I like it." Lisa grinned, standing up and waiting for the boys to stand as well, "It's my friend's birthday so it would be an awful shame if you didn't join us for a few drinks and a few songs. It's rude to leave ladies unattended."

Santana and Quinn exchanged a glance before shrugging and standing up. They came to the club to have fun but mostly to interact with other people as the men they were, and if they were passing this well, why not take a chance? The boys followed Lisa to the table, noticing the small cheer the girls sitting there shared as they approached.

"Mission success, Lisa!" A girl laughed, giving the brunette a high-five.

"Consider it your birthday present," Lisa joked, returning the high-five while Quinn and Santana took a seat besides the girl, "That's Quinn and that's Santana."

"My name is Jennifer," the girl grinned, introducing herself.

She was an attractive girl, with blonde hair down with curls at the tips and light hints of freckles on her cheeks, although obscured by the dark lights in the club.

The other girls at the table giggled before quickly leaving the table, leaving Quinn and Santana confused.

"Don't worry about them. We kind of claimed you two first so, you know. Don't stress." Lisa assured them, "Plus, they _know_ I have a thing for beautiful men like you. Let's dance, pretty boy."

Winking again, she grabbed Quinn's hand and pulled the shocked boy to the dance floor as Jennifer and Santana stayed sitting, laughing at the two.

"My best friend's quite the aggressive one, isn't she? Not a shy person at all." Jennifer laughed, "She really has a thing for guys like Quinn."

"She's in luck. Quinn's got a thing for brunettes."

"No, she's got a _huge_ thing for guys like him. Seriously, the moment you two walked in, her eyes have been stuck on him."

Santana laughed, taking a sip out of his cup.

"Not that I can blame her. I've had my eyes on you the whole time too, you know."

Blushing a light red, Santana berated himself for feeling so shy all of a sudden. Back when he was the head cheerleader girl at McKinley High School, he never got shy when people flirted with him. Then again, the only people who hit on him were guys and the stress of keeping up a female façade made him act ten times meaner than he was originally.

"I mean, I like the rugged, badass kind of handsome guys. Like you. It's really sexy." She said, holding his arm, "We should dance. I love dancing and I'd love to dance with you."

"Well, then you're in luck." Santana smirked, his old bravado finally kicking in.

"How so, Mr. Tough guy?"

"I've got this huge thing for blonde dancers."

Santana allowed the blonde to pull him to the dance floor, his smile widening as he passed by a more confident Quinn who was no longer stupidly standing still but was actually dancing with Lisa. Sharing a sneaky high-five, the boys went back to their respective girl, the feel of a soft hand above their neck and soft sighs so foreign but wonderful.

Thirty minutes later Santana and Jennifer were no longer dancing but off to the side of the dance floor, lips fighting for dominance as his hands wandered down her back and on her waist. She was resting her hands on his stomach as his hands moved slowly under her shirt and around her breast, a soft moan escaping her lips. Despite the loud music booming throughout the club, Santana could hear every sound she made and he loved it. He loved what he was doing to this girl.

The dark was a good cover for his hands while they continued roaming her body as she merely moaned in appreciativeness of his touch. This was new; this was good. He could hardly control himself when she whispered his name in his ear. All his life he was used to hearing breathy, rough voices calling out his name, much too loud, much too tough. The soft, almost loving way his name drifted from the girl's lips was too much for the boy. She leaned into his touch as he softly massaged his hands on her ample breasts, his breaths quickening as she drew in a tight breath. Her hands began to wander, tracing the faint outlines of his abs, down the v-line he worked so hard for, tender fingers unzipping his pants and slipping underneath his boxers.

He froze.

Her hands stopped moving as she looked up curiously at the shocked boy. She watched intently as he pulled his hands out of her shirt and quickly zipped his pants back up.

"What's the matter?" She asked, the frightened look on his face only amplifying, "_Oh_, I get it."

He recovered as she nodded her head in understanding, grabbing his arm and pulling close.

"Y-you do?"

"Yeah, you kind of… you know… prematurely…"

"No! No, no, that's not it!" He struggled for words, eyes wide as she giggled.

"I didn't know I was that good." She winked as he blushed red.

"No, that's really… that's not what happened."

"So what is it? Am I that unattractive or something?" She joked, a bit of hurt showing on her face.

"I didn't mean… I mean… You're really pretty!" Santana tried again, grabbing her arm in a desperate attempt not to offend her, "Like I'd bone you right now if I could. I mean, make love. I mean, if you wanted to. Not that I'm assuming you're a whore or like that I'm just talking to you because of sex or something or I-"

"Easy there, big boy." She laughed, finding his flustered state adorable, "Now what's with this 'can't'? I'm no slut but I'm in the mood."

"I mean we're in a public place and-" He began, trying to make excuses.

"We can always go to my house. Literally a seven minute walk from here." Jennifer replied, clearly having fun with this.

"I'm not looking for a relationship?" He tried again.

"Honey, neither am I. Sex-"

"-isn't dating. _Right_. Uh… I don't sleep with strangers…?"

"And you assume I do? Sweetie, I've been in a committed relationship for 2 years and we broke up literally a week ago. I've got a lot of sexual frustration energy that I'd really love to burn."

"I'm in love with someone else!" Santana finally blurted out, throwing his hands in the air.

"So am I." She replied, her voice softer, "And I was joking about the whole '_sleep with you'_ thing. I was just caught up in the moment before. I'm really not into sleeping with strangers either. I guess I should say thanks for not taking advantage of me or something. Real gentleman."

Jennifer's mouth turned up into a grin and Santana let out a silent breath of relief.

"Let's dip on out of here. There's a Starbucks across the street from here. The music's getting way too loud for me."

Nodding his head in agreement, Santana allowed Jennifer to hold his hand and take him outside and to the small coffee house across from the club. An hour later, Quinn found Santana sitting with a half empty cup of green tea frap, talking animatedly with the beautiful blonde.

"Dude, were you here the whole time? Rico called. We have to go in five minutes."

"Oh, really? Time flies." He laughed, grabbing Jennifer in a tight hug.

"Yup. You have my number, right? Call me whenever. And you, pretty boy. Did you have fun with Lisa?"

"Ah, uh, yeah… she's waiting with your other friends at that table." He replied, scratching the back of his head, "So are you two dating now or…"

"Oh, no, no. Santana here is my fuck buddy." Jennifer winked, throwing an arm around Santana's waist, "Isn't that right, sexy?"

"I'll keep that in mind, and maybe when the penis fairy grants me my wish, I'll hit you up." Santana replied, smirking as Quinn's eyes widened in shock.

"B-by that, Santana meant that he uh-"

"Don't hurt yourself, Quinn. She already knows." Santana laughed.

"What? Wait what? But we've like… it's been only like… three hours since we met and-"

"She guessed." Shrugged Santana.

"Oh sure, he seems indifferent to the fact that I now know, but when I guessed what he was, he completely flipped out. No exaggeration."

"It's like destiny, man. Jennifer here has a transgendered mother. She was completely cool with it."

"Yep. My mom's more woman than most of the idiots out there could handle." She winked, kissing Santana on the cheek, "But seriously, you've got to keep in contact. You're my new best guy friend and I can totally help you get with that cheerleader chick you keep talking about."

Santana's face turned a bright red as Jennifer walked away, but before the two boys looked away from her, she turned back.

"And I'm _totally_ open to the friends with benefits thing." She called out, laughing when a few other patrons at Starbucks turned to them with glares.

As she disappeared across the street and back into the bar, Quinn grabbed Santana by the wrists and pulled him towards himself.

"Are you freaking crazy? Maybe you got lucky this time, but imagine if she wasn't so accepting. We'd be outed so quickly. We only came to this town to try living like guys and you almost ruined that for us!"

"Dude, relax! Everything worked out fine, didn't it?" Santana released himself from the blonde boy's grip and leaned back, "Plus, it's good to have at least someone who knows. Who knows? For all we know, becoming her friend might be one of the best things that happened to us in this city. She's a really cool girl."

"Whatever. But be careful next time."

Leaning back on his chair, Quinn threw one more glare at his best friend, ignoring the sense of calm that was settling in his stomach. Maybe one person knowing wouldn't be too bad.

"Sirs, please keep it down there." An employee yelled, rendering the boys mute.

_Sirs_. Them?

"Us?"

"Well, of course."

_Sirs_.

In the silence they shared, the two boys closed their eyes and let out soft laughs, knowing for the first time in their lives, they were being seen as they were. Rico was calling, their phones blaring out obnoxious ring tones, but the only thing they could hear in their heads were the giggles of the girls who found them attractive – _as_ _men_ – and the employees and customers that spitefully regarded them – _but as men_.

Nothing felt better.

* * *

EDIT: I tagged it "Quinn" and "Santana", but it's because it _is_ about those two-_ they are the main characters_. You know, the reason why you're supposed to tag it as such? Sorry about this note to my readers; I know most of you understand this concept. There are a few rude individuals who don't, unfortunately, but their comments will be safely disposed of. Thank you for reading and please leave a review/critique if you'd like. If it is a complaint or a question, and I can't stress this enough, PM me so I can address you personally.


	3. Chapter 3

**Just Ordinary Boys**

**AN:** _Sorry I've been gone for so long! Thank you for all your support, and I really do hope I can shed some light on trans topics. Please don't hesitate to PM me any questions about transitioning or if you'd like an ear to listen! I'm more than happy to help out any brother or sister. Also, here's a few chapters early trigger warning for any people who've experienced transphobia. Feel free to read and review!_

Part III: Drank

* * *

"Aw, that's disgusting."

Quinn tossed the used boxer-briefs across the room, hitting Santana directly on the face.

"We have a laundry hamper, you know. Speaking of which, go put on a shirt."

Santana shrugged, throwing the boxer-briefs to the side and crouching down in front of the fridge, rummaging for a can of soda. Grabbing two soda cans, he stood and turned, kicking the fridge door closed with one leg before walking into the open living room. He jumped down on the sofa, discreetly shaking a can before handing it to Quinn. Smirking, he waited for the blonde boy to crack open his soda.

"Why are you grinning like- oh, oh no you don't. You totally shook this can, didn't you?"

"What makes you think that?"

"I'm not stupid, Santana. Give me yours."

Quinn grabbed his friend's soda and opened it, his victorious smile dropping when a blast of orange erupted from the top and splashed all over his shirt.

"Guess which can I shook?" Santana laughed, pointing his own can at Quinn before opening it as well, another burst of orange hitting his friend.

"Trick question. Both."

"I am going to kill you, Lopez!"

"You talk pretty big for a little man!"

Quinn grinned and jumped from his seat, grabbing the laughing boy by his sides and pushing him off the sofa. Leaning over the edge of the sofa, he grabbed the ends of his soaked shirt and squeezed, laughing at his friend's horrified gasp when the soda hit his chest.

"Oh, you want to play rough, huh, Quinnie? I can show you r-"

"Holy shit, what are you two _doing_?"

The two boys turned around to see Rico at the door, two bags of groceries at his feet.

"Seriously? I go to the grocery store for literally ten minutes to restock the fridge and I come back to see you both acting like you're part of some really, _really_ erotic porno scene?"

"No, we were fighting-"

"Honey. You're on the floor shirtless, your completely soaked blonde friend squeezing liquid off of his own shirt onto your naked stomach."

"Well, I could see how awkward it'd look out of context-"

"Out of context? Okay, then please inform me of the context."

"Santana was being dirty so I threw his underwear at his face so he got back at me by getting me wet-"

"Context isn't helping. At all."

"No, not like _that_!I meant like-"

"I don't want to know. I don't really care. All I want is for you two to help me with the groceries and to clean up all the soda. Or whatever _that_ is."

"Rico!" The boys shouted, blushing red.

Rico burst out laughing at his boys' embarrassed faces.

"Man, you two are so easy to tease. I'm only kidding. But really, clean up that mess and help me with the groceries."

"You're an asshole." Santana grumbled, grabbing a towel from the kitchen while Quinn helped Rico.

"Oh, brighten up, why don't you? Aren't you both meeting those girls you met at that club two weeks back?"

"Yeah." Quinn replied, placing the eggs and the vegetables into the fridge.

"Lisa and Jennifer," Santana said, wiping the floor with the towel, "We should shower again, though. Everything feels sticky."

"Soda tends to do that to surfaces." Rico laughed, "So what are you boys planning on doing with them? Spare me the details if you're planning anything frisky."

"No, no. Nothing like that." Quinn quickly said, "We're helping them out. They needed dates for one of their friend's parties so Jennifer asked Santana."

"So they're using you?"

"Nah. Jen and I text a lot so we're pretty close. She actually felt bad about asking because she wanted to hang out on a more personal basis but I told her it was cool. Plus, I think Quinn has a thing for Lisa."

"You know who I like." Quinn frowned.

"We're going as friends, Quinn."

"I know. I guess I'm just being oversensitive," Quinn sighed, "I'll go take a shower."

"Hey!" Santana shouted as Quinn walked towards the bathroom.

"What?"

"Quinn, seriously. Don't worry about it. We'll have a good time. We deserve at least that much, right?"

"I guess."

"And I'll make sure you stay faithful to your little Berry, alright?"

Quinn smiled. He should've never doubted his friend's ability to know what to say.

"Alright."

* * *

"Okay, so we need to dress nice. How do we dress nice?"

Santana stood perplexed in front of his closet. Living as a popular cheerleader for most of his life, fashion once came as naturally as breathing. However, ever since transitioning, he always felt as if he was second guessing himself when choosing what to wear. Quinn didn't seem to have the same problem. He was already dressed in a nice violet polo and jeans.

"Santana, come on, man."

Quinn stood against the door frame, arms crossed against his chest and eyes rolled.

"Just put on some clothes and let's go."

"This is hard for me, alright?"

Rifling through the small closet, Santana grew more and more frustrated. Although Quinn felt compelled to tease his shorter friend, he knew that now probably wasn't the best time to play with fire. Sighing, he stepped away from the door frame and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and pulled him away from the closet.

"You did fine when you were a cheerleader." Quinn quipped, eyebrow raised.

"Shut up. That's different." Santana grumbled.

"Look, this is a party. You don't have to dress too formally. Let's go for something casual, alright?"

"Fine, alright."

Grabbing a few clothes off their hangers, Quinn tossed a nice, white dress shirt and black jeans at the boy.

"Put that on with your Timberland boots and you'll look fine. Keep a few buttons undone."

"Thanks." Santana smiled.

It was hard for him, getting used to male clothes. He remembered being in high school, stuck in class in a tight cheer uniform, and how he'd mentally picture himself wearing all sorts of other clothes. At the time, he didn't even care what. Just anything. Now that he _could_, it became more difficult for him to decide. The very thing he was so sure of being able to adjust to became one of the hardest. And why did he even care? It was all too strange.

Santana sighed. He was over thinking things again. After all, it was just _clothes_.

"Hey. You'll get good at this again." Quinn smiled, patting his friend on the back.

"I know. I know. I just don't get why I get so damn frustrated about something so stupid like _clothes_." Santana sighed, buttoning up the dress shirt.

"I've been thinking about that and…" Quinn stopped, unsure whether or not to continue, "…and maybe you're just overwhelmed-"

"No, no. It's like… I mean, I guess it's like… I've always been so good with fashion, you know? Clothes. Back when we were in high school."

"Yeah, you were."

"And like you said, I am a bit overwhelmed at being able to wear the things I've always wanted to wear. But at the same time, I'm so _used_ to dressing differently, you know? And then I'm thinking, you know, maybe I'm not fit to be a guy. I mean what guy has this extensive knowledge of girl clothing and-"

"Woah, stop right there, San. You're getting way ahead of yourself. Listen, clothes don't make the gender. I mean, I know plenty of guys that like to dress feminine and that does _not_ make them girls. And I know plenty of girls that like to dress masculine. Why should that matter?" Quinn moved over to his best friend and threw an arm around his shoulder, "Plus, you've been forced to dress like a girl all this time so you got good at it. Big deal. Now you'll get good at dressing like you want to. So stop stressing about _clothes._ You sound like Rico."

Laughing, Santana hit his friend in the arm. Finally dressed, he swept a bit of dust off the side of his pants and straightened out his collar.

"You're right. You always know what to say."

Quinn laughed; he knew the feeling.

"Just returning the favor."

* * *

Two hours later the boys found themselves walking through the doors of a well furnished mansion, beautiful girls on their arms. The house was dark, the only source of light coming from temporary Christmas lights hung all around the walls off the mansion. Music blasted through amps placed strategically in the rooms and small strobe lights hung from the ceilings. The rooms were filled with people dancing and sitting and talking and drinking.

"Jennifer! Lisa! You're here!"

"Janice!"

Jennifer and Lisa broke away from the boys to greet their blonde friend.

"I see you brought dates."

"Janice, this is Santana and this is Quinn. Boys, this is Janice Wilde."

The boys took turns shaking her hand before she pulled them through a crowd of dancing people and towards a table filled with refreshments, Jennifer and Lisa quickly in tow. Janice pulled out a few cups before filling them up, half with club soda and half with a small container she pulled out from her bag. She handed a cup to each of the four before taking one for herself.

"Sorry, I have this tradition where I _have_ to drink with people I've just met at parties."

"It sounds crazy but it's actually true," Jennifer laughed, rolling her eyes, "One time, I brought ten people to one of her parties and she took a drink for _each_ person. She woke up three days later."

"I did not pass out that long!" Janice laughed, "And plus, I revised the rules. Only one cup per group of people."

"Well, Jennifer and I _did_ bring them separately. Quinn's mine." Lisa flashed a wink at the blushing blonde before raising her cup.

"Well, let's get on with it then." Santana declared, raising his own cup.

"Are you sure about this?" Quinn whispered to his best friend.

"It'll loosen us up. Nothing wrong with that." Santana whispered back before addressing the rest of the group.

"We doing this?"

"Down it goes!"

Upon Janice's exclamation, all five of them downed their cups.

Santana knew he had a high tolerance. It helped him out in high school when he had to go to the big parties. He'd drink the same amount as the football player he'd be expected to hook up with, and after leading him to a bedroom, he'd let his "hook-up" pass out. In the morning, he'd make up some lie about the "great sex" and the football player would nod his head and agree, not wanting to tell Santana that he might have forgotten the night because of the alcohol. But that was then.

He hadn't touched too much alcohol after coming to terms with his own gender identity, except for a few casual drinks here and there, and he wasn't sure if his body was ready for a sharp intake of that much vodka. The cup was pretty big, he thought to himself. It tasted like rubbing alcohol all the way through, despite the soda, and he winced when he thought of how he didn't eat too much during lunch. It would probably be fine, he figured. After all, he always had a high tolerance. He was sure it wasn't something that went away, at least not that quickly.

Quinn, on the other hand, knew this was a bad idea the moment the first drop of alcohol hit the back of his throat. By then, it was too late to stop the flow of the vodka, but he cringed at what he knew was bound to happen. He was never a heavy drinker. He was the guy who opted for the can of Coke when given the choice at parties. It wasn't that his tolerance was that low- although it was _pretty_ _much _was_._ It was just that he liked being in control of his actions at all times and being in control of his thoughts. Alcohol and his personality didn't mesh very well.

"Not that bad, was it?" Santana whispered to his friend, nudging him on the side.

"Yeah…"

"I'm going to attend to the other guests." Janice said, giving a small wave before walking off.

"How about we dance?" Jennifer smiled, pulling Santana away into the throngs of drunken partygoers.

The bass bumped a steady rhythm and Santana began to feel the slight buzz take away a bit of his nervousness. The buzz, coupled with his comfort regarding Jennifer, pushed him to grab her around the waist and spin her around, pressing his chest against her back. Laughing, she picked up the hint and began dancing against him, closing her eyes nodding to the song.

Midway past the second song, Quinn knew he was a goner. He felt like he was walking on clouds. Really, really, uncomfortable and crowded clouds. His date, although interested enough to dance with him for a full song, was off socializing with a few people that just came in. He couldn't be bothered to follow her; he wasn't sure if he'd end up floating someplace else. His eyes began clouding and he tried to focus on his thoughts and regain control of himself, but he would only end up focusing on the melody of the song over and over again. By the time he shook himself out of it, he felt the uncomfortable claustrophobic feeling creep up on him again.

"Gotta… get… outta… here."

He stumbled out of the main room, passing a few more rooms crowded with more partygoers left and right, before finding his way to a staircase. A few people were sitting on the steps, making out or talking, and he realized in his drunken stupor that the higher he looked up the staircase, the less people were seated. Drunken logic assured him that whatever was waiting at the top of the staircase was bound to be clear of anybody.

Somehow, he made it up the stairs without tripping over his own feet and he walked down the long hallway, ignoring the doors that looked already closed. He didn't know if he had the patience to turn the doorknobs, so he opted to continue walking until he came upon a door that wasn't quite closed. Awesome.

Quinn pushed the door with his unsteady hand and although he could still hear the pulsating beat of the music booming downstairs, he savored the quiet of the room. The room was dark save for a small window, and using the moonlight, he found his way towards the big bed in the corner of the room. With a happy sigh, he collapsed on it, laying his head on the soft pillow and breathing in mangoes and expensive perfume. He draped his arm around the long, warm pillow by his side and nudged it to make more room, ignoring the way the pillow began thrashing.

"S…shtop moving."

"Get off of me!"

His eyes opened and he faced the pillow, only to find himself face-to-face with a slightly frightened looking blonde girl, struggling against his grip.

"Oh… I'm is…I'm shor… s… sorry."

Releasing his grip, he rolled away from her, curling up to a ball as she calmed herself down.

"So you're not here to… do something very regrettable to me?"

"Nahhh, can I… do I do the sleep here pleeease?"

"I don't even know you! And that sentence made no sense, by the way. You just came here in the middle of my sleep and scared half of me to death!" The girl exclaimed, slapping Quinn on the shoulder. Quinn only whimpered in response, rolling over towards the girl and pouting.

"Pleeeeeease mom just like five more… minutes…"

"I'm not your mom, you drunken idiot." The girl huffed before looking at his face one more time.

"Five… more minutes…"

"Whatever, just don't touch me or anything. God, I'm crazy, letting some weirdo stranger sleep on my bed. God, I swear I'm crazy. My sister has to bring all these crazy college kids to our house all the time-" The girl rolled over to the farthest side of the bed while muttering to herself. Her voice, although annoyed and tired, lulled the blonde boy back to sleep, and before long, he was passed out.

It was the morning after, followed by a painful throbbing in his head, that Quinn realized the voice wasn't his mother's and in fact, belonged to a very asleep blonde girl that he had his arm draped over. Confusion washed over his mind as he tried to access the situation. The last thing he could vividly recall was drinking the alcohol and dancing with Lisa. After that, he remembered feeling really crowded and tired. And now he was in bed with a total stranger.

Suddenly realizing the situation, Quinn raised himself right up and looked down, relieved to see that his clothes were still on. So no drunken hook-up, then.

The girl shuffled in her sleep, throwing her arms around his stomach and pulling him down. Unbalanced, he fell sideways towards her, but he quickly shot out his arms, holding him above her.

"Hey, sis, can you help me clean up? All my friends either left last night or are passed out-"

Quinn's eyes widened and he quickly rolled off the blonde girl at the sight of Janice. The older blonde stomped across the room and pulled the boy up by the collar of her shirt, glaring as she inspected her sister.

"What the fuck are you doing to my sister?"

"I-I… I wasn't… I-" Quinn cringed at his own response. He wasn't good under pressure and he struggled to form an eloquent sentence.

"She's only in high school! What were you doing?"

"N-nothing! I swear!"

The angry girl glanced down, and when she saw that all his clothes were on, she gave a suspicious frown and let go of his collar.

"What were you trying to do, then?" She accused, pointing a finger at his face and pushing him down onto the edge of the bed.

"I was just drunk and I guess I ended up just… crashing here..?" Quinn said, rushing his words.

"Likely story." Janice snarled, raising a hand as Quinn flinched.

"Wait… Janice!"

The younger blonde was awake, the sounds of her sister's loud voice waking her from her sleep. Both Janice and Quinn looked down at the teenager as she pushed herself off the bed, running her fingers through her hair.

"He's telling the truth. He literally just came in here and slept on my bed. Rude, but not illegal I guess."

Quinn gave a sheepish grin at the younger girl, feeling embarrassed.

"Sorry about that. I'm really bad with alcohol."

"It's fine. Don't let it happen again or whatever." Replied the girl while crossing her arms and looking away from the boy.

"Well, if that's settled… Quinn, go wake up Santana. He's passed out somewhere in the living room with Jennifer." Janice sighed, "I don't know why I throw these parties when the cleanup is so incredibly excruciating."

"Wait, I need to go to school," the girl said, frowning at her sister, "Did you forget I have school today?"

"Oh shit!" Janice exclaimed, "I totally forgot! Damn it. Can't you walk or something?"

"You know I go to school like towns away." The girl retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Actually, uh, Santana drove us over here so I guess he can drive her to her school. I'll wake him up while you get ready."

"How can I trust you not to do something weird to my sister again?" Janice said, laughing when Quinn's face turned white.

"She's never going to let that go, is she?"

Janice's little sister nodded, giggling at his growing blush.

* * *

"We ready to go?" Santana asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Quinn sat in the passenger's seat and the girl sat in the back, wearing a thin jacket zipped all the way up and her hair in a blonde ponytail. The girls decided to stay back at the mansion and help clean up.

"Yeah, just give me a second." The girl said, beginning to unzip her jacket, "It's hotter that I thought it'd be."

"Oh, sure, my car's heater's pretty good-"

The two boys stared in shock when the girl took off her jacket.

"What?" The girl asked, eyebrows creased, "You boys never saw a cheerleading outfit before?"

"N-no, it's not that." Santana stuttered, "What… what school are we driving you to, blondie?"

"First of all, I have a name, alright? It's Kitty, not blondie. And it's William McKinley High School."

The two boys stared at each other before mouthing the same words.

Oh, _shit_.


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N.** _Been a few months since I last updated so here's a fairly long chapter. Hope you enjoy, and make sure to **read and review**. Things are starting to get cray and the story will build up, and yes, we'll see more Britt and Rach in the next few chapters. Thanks for holding on, readers! I appreciate you guys dearly. And those of you who guessed Kitty before she was revealed, good on you. I was hoping some readers would catch on. Little details don't pass you by, huh, you modern day Sherlock? I'm proud of you._

**Part Four: Well, Puck**

* * *

Quinn sat with his eyes closed and head against the headrest, slightly moving his head forwards and slamming it backwards again and again. The music softly playing from the car's radio became a buzz in his ears and as much as he wanted to grab the volume knob and tear it off, he couldn't will his hands to move. Instead, he continued his head-slamming to the beat of the song, ignoring his best friend's worried glances.

"Relax, Quinn."

Giving his friend a nudge on the shoulder, Santana gave a slight smile. However, Quinn continued his pointless routine, not even bothering to open his eyes. Rolling his eyes, Santana quickly checked the rearview mirror. Kitty was sleeping, head resting on the car door and face pressed up against the glass.

"Hey, Kitty?"

When the girl didn't reply, Santana breathed out a sigh of release and turned to Quinn before calmly smacking him upside the head.

"The hell, Santana?" Snarled Quinn beneath his breath, sitting upright and glaring at his friend.

"Seriously, you need to calm down. Everyone's graduated."

"I know. I'm just a little nervous, alright?"

"I know you are, but so am I. The teachers won't recognize us. We'll be fine. We'll just drop her off and go. It'll be easy. There won't-"

"Eyes back on the road, Lopez!"

"Right. Anyways, it'll be quick and easy, alright?"

"What's quick and easy? Are you two talking about me?"

Kitty smirked at the boys' surprised expressions. Santana quickly whipped his vision back to the road and nervously tapped the steering wheel with his fingers.

"We're here so, uh, we'll drive to the front and you can just hop out and we'll be on our way-"

"Nope. You boys are coming inside with me."

"What?" Quinn tried to mask the fear in his voice.

"I'm like an hour late! Do you really think the front office lady's going to let me in without an excuse?"

"But… but-"

"No buts. You invaded my personal space last night and this is the least you can do."

"But-"

Santana sighed before patting his blonde friend on the shoulder.

"I'm pretty sure the blondie has her mind set. We'll just take her to the office, get her excused, and leave. Easy."

"Yeah, it's no big deal. Why are you both so eager to get out of here? Bad high school memories?"

"Something like that." Santana smiled grimly.

"Really? You both look like you've had it easy in high school."

Kitty shrugged, grabbing her backpack as Santana parked the car near the school entrance. The outside of the school was completely void of students, and Quinn tried to calm himself as he stepped out of the car. He knew there wasn't that much to be worried about, but he felt an overwhelming sense of paranoia being so close to his past again.

"Hold these."

Kitty threw her backpack at Quinn and her jacket at Santana and the two boys followed the blonde cheerleader. Santana chuckled at the situation, remembering how just a little while ago, they were those cheerleaders who had boys trailing behind them, holding their things. Now look where they were.

"Wait, why do both of us need to go inside?" Quinn quipped, realizing as soon as they stepped through the front doors.

"Two hot college boys taking me to my class? Hello! Rep booster," Kitty rolled her eyes, "Isn't it obvious?"

"So you're using us." Quinn said with an eyebrow raised.

"Well, you had a grand time using _me_ as a pillow last night, so…" Kitty trailed, leading them into the front office.

"Let that go, will you?" Quinn called out after her before following her into the office.

Once inside, Kitty got the attention of the front office lady, who seemed to sigh with annoyance at the sight of her. The two boys exchanged looks with a slight chuckle; they could see why she would be so irritated at the blonde girl's presence.

"You're late. What a surprise." The lady said, lowering her glasses.

"Oh please. Not my fault." Kitty retorted, crossing her arms.

"It was my fault. I was supposed to give her a ride but my car stalled so I had to call over a friend to drive us here." Quinn quickly lied, anxious to leave the school.

"Is that true, Ms. Wilde?"

"Yep. Can I have a pass now?"

The lady gave Kitty one more look of disapproval before signing off a small, white slip and handing it to her. She regarded the boys with the same look before turning away and focusing her attention back to her computer screen.

"She was pleasant." Quinn muttered under his breath as they walked out of the office.

"She's a crabby lady, that one. Is she new?" Santana agreed, not recognizing the lady from last year.

"Yep. She started working this year and she's a total nightmare," Kitty said, "Now walk me to my third period class and you're free to go."

"Can't you just take your things and go there yourself?" Quinn asked.

"Nope. I need to make sure some students see you two. I'm using you guys, remember?"

"Oh, right." Quinn rolled his eyes and followed behind him.

"Wait, wait, what class are we going to?"

"Well, this is my free period so I'm heading to the Glee room."

"Oh. Wonderful." Quinn said under his breath as Santana gave a weak smile to his best friend.

The more they walked the familiar path towards the Glee room, the more Quinn felt his heart thumping in his chest. Although Santana didn't look half as nervous as he did, he knew he felt just as worried. Although they both looked physically different, they were afraid they'd be recognized or misgendered or outed or-

"Here we go." Kitty stopped in front the Glee room, giving the boys a once over before continuing to speak.

"Make me look good."

"No prob." Santana weakly said as Quinn nodded slowly.

Kitty opened the door and stepped inside, the sounds of the piano halting as the boys walked in behind her. Santana pulled the hood of a hoodie he put on in the car over his head to shadow his face and Quinn kept his eyes downcast, away from the people in the room.

"Thanks for being such darlings and carrying my things, boys." Kitty said flirtatiously, grabbing her jacket and backpack.

"Glad to see you're finally joining us, Kitty." A familiar voice said.

"Oh, I ran a little late, Mr. Schuester. I'm sure you understand."

"Well, as long as you have a pass… And who are these two?"

"Oh, funny you should ask," Kitty drawled, "They're actually-"

"Friends of her sister." Santana quickly said, "We'll be going then."

"We were about to have a quick performance! Why don't you stay for it?"

"Oh, that sounds awesome but-"

"Great!"

Mr. Schuester approached them, trying to get a good look of their faces but they kept themselves averted. He brushed his suspicions off, assuming they were both tired and leading them to sit down in the seats. Santana peaked from under his hood and took a quick look behind him. He saw many unfamiliar faces among ones that he recognized. Artie was there, as was Tina. He could make out Blaine in the front row and Sam next to him. And was that Rory and that Joe guy from that Bible club? And who was that next to Sam-

Fuck.

"Brittany." Santana whispered.

"Huh? Quinn asked, nudging his friend.

"She's here. Brittany. She's sitting next to Sam."

"What? She was a senior with us. That makes no sense. She must have been left back or something."

"Why didn't she tell us?" Santana muttered.

"Well, to be honest, we were both a little wrapped up in our own issues the last few months of high school. I don't think we even walked on graduation. Didn't we drop cheer and Glee too?"

"Right. Damn it, we should've been there for her."

A thud from the front of the room drew the boys' attention. Standing there was Sugar, decked out in a dress that looked way too tight and way too pink. The tight fabric stuck to her curves and pushed out her breasts and despite never finding Sugar attractive when attending the high school, the boys couldn't help but stare. The girl noticed, sending the boys a wink before twirling in place and pointing at the band that somehow gathered at the front of the classroom.

"Woah, when did they get here?" Santana whispered to his friend.

"Dude, you're asking me?" Quinn replied quietly.

The keyboardist began playing a synth line and the drummer joined in, ending the chatter in the room, and Sugar sat in a chair placed in front of the class. With another suggestive wink towards the two boys, she ran a hand through her hair and began singing.

"Let me lay it on the line, I got a little freakiness inside-"

She twisted in the chair, leaning back and running a hand down her side. At the end of the verse, Brittany and Kitty stepped down from their seats and joined Sugar, dancing along as she continued her song.

"I want to freak in the morning, a freak in the evening just like me."

Santana could barely hear Sugar's voice over the pounding in his ears as he stared, flushed, at his blonde friend from high school. Brittany was always a superior dancer and he couldn't peel his eyes off of her. The way her skirt showed off her long legs and the wink she sent his way made him feel heat rise to the back of his neck.

"I need a roughneck brother that can satisfy me."

Quinn, on the other hand, was trying his best not to look at anybody dancing, knowing that Santana would kill him if he ogled at Brittany and still feeling a little too creepy looking at Kitty.

"If you are that kind of man, 'cause I'm that kind of girl-"

Suddenly, Sugar faced the two boys and took a stride towards them, the two girls dancing backup in tow. Still singing, she stopped in front of Quinn, putting a foot up on his chair and leaning over him, her breasts much too close to his face. As Quinn sat frozen in a mix of fear and appreciation, Sugar reached over and cupped his chin, forcing him to look up at her face. The hood fell off his head and he quickly jumped up, pulling the hood back over his head and grabbing his best friend's arm.

The song now interrupted, Sugar stepped back as Quinn rushed to stand up as well. Mr. Schuester stood confused, crossing his arms in front of his chest as the other students returned to their chattering. Sugar seemed less than impressed, huffing as she stomped a foot.

"Why'd you do that? I was almost done."

"Ah, uh, I mean, you were-" Santana stammered for an excuse.

"I think he's trying to say that you were being a bit _inappropriate_." Mr. Schuester reprimanded, "And I agree with them."

With a roll of her eyes, Sugar walked back to her seat and joined in with the class's distracted conversations.

"Well, I apologize for that, uhm, scandalous performance." Mr. Schuester, "You both look quite familiar, actually. Have to attended this school before?"

"Ah, yeah, for a short while." Quinn quickly said, "Not for that long."

"Must've seen you in the hallways or something." Mr. Schuester laughed, "I didn't catch your names?"

"Oh, their names are San-" Kitty began saying, before getting cut off by Santana.

"San! San, yeah, that's my name. Just San. Nothing else."

Kitty shot him a confused look before Quinn spoke up.

"And, uh, I'm… Charlie? That works. Charlie. Yup."

"Oh, well, thank you for dropping by, San and Charlie. Does San stand for something?"

"Yeah, but we don't talk about it much." Santana laughed, trying to end the conversation.

"Ha! That's hilarious!" Mr. Schuester laughed along, much to Santana's confusion.

"Right. So we'll be going. After we have a word with our dear friend Kitty."

Quinn quickly grabbed Kitty's arm and pulled her out the room as Santana stayed back for a few more seconds, catching Brittany's eyes and giving her a nervous wave as she gave him a confused smile. He bolted out of the room behind his friend, missing Brittany wave back. As soon as the door closed behind Santana, Kitty pulled her arm out of Quinn's grip and glared at the boys.

"Okay, so why are you lying about your names?" She asked.

"It's a long story." Santana sighed, putting a hand up to his temple.

"Well, we used to go here. To this school." Quinn began.

"Yeah, but we, uh, got into some trouble? Right. We got into some trouble, big trouble, and basically, we don't really want anything to start up again so it's best if we stay on the down low." Santana rambled, trying to make up a story as he talked.

"So that's why you told Mr. Schue you were only here for a short time."

"Right. Because we got expelled." Quinn quipped.

"Oh, didn't peg you two as bad boys." Kitty laughed, "But fine. I won't spill. If you promise to do one thing for me."

The boys groaned, knowing this wouldn't go over well.

"You guys are my escorts whenever I need you two, okay?"

"Okay, fine, whatever." Santana grumbled, "But we're leaving."

"Go ahead." Kitty said, opening the door to go back in, "But expect a call from me soon."

"We'll be waiting eagerly." Quinn said, rolling his eyes, anxious to leave the high school.

The door closed and Santana stared down the long, empty hallway with a sigh.

"Now let's get out of here, man."

* * *

The boys soon learned that the blonde girl's threat wasn't an empty one. Two days after dropping the girl off at the high school, Santana received a text message from an unknown number, which ended up being Kitty, who managed to get his number through a network of people that started with her sister and ended with Jennifer. Quinn regretted drinking at the party and Santana regretted offering a ride to Kitty, but nobody regretted the boys' actions more than Rico, who was currently sitting on his couch, forced to listen to his two boys complaining.

"She wants us to attend a party with her. A party! Not just any party, though. A glee party! You know what that means? I'll tell you what that means. Bad news!" Santana yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

"Seriously, why did this have to happen to us? I swear the dumbest things keep happening to us!" Quinn joined in, pacing back and forth.

"Have you two considered, I don't know, ignoring Kitty's request?" Rico mumbled, annoyed.

"And have her expose us?" Quinn cried out.

"Expose? Having your names won't _expose_ you guys. Plus, you two are acting like there's anything to expose anyways. You were always boys."

"Yeah, I get what you're saying, but the thing is, we're not ready to be outed. Especially since Brittany's in that class. I need to do that in my own time." Santana grumbled, sitting down next to Rico, "She's our other best friend. She's important."

"We'll play along until we get the guts to tell Brittany." Quinn sighed, still pacing the floor.

"Seems like our best course of action." Santana agreed.

Rico laughed, getting up from the couch and heading to his room.

"You two are so stubborn."

* * *

"The party's in a week. Don't shave." Quinn said, pointing at his best friend, "The more we distinguish ourselves from our past looks, the better."

"Right." Santana said, "But the more I think about it, the less I think the first thing they'll jump to once they find out our names is that the two dudes that happened to drop by Glee were once the two head cheerleaders-"

"Yeah but the less risk, the better, right?" Quinn asked, running a hand through his hair.

"Right." Santana repeated, leaning back on his pillow.

"We have to tell Brittany."

"Right. About that. Could we hold that off for a little longer?" Santana asked nervously, staring up at the ceiling.

"Just go to sleep, San." Quinn sighed, shutting off the lamp next to his bed.

"Right. Right."

"And stop saying that."

* * *

There was no doubt in Kitty's mind that she would have all eyes on her at the party. Granted, the party was a small one hosted by Jake Puckerman, but it was still a party and that was all that mattered. After all, she didn't need any more of those loud, obnoxious parties in her life. Her sister hosted more than enough of _those_.

She waited in front of her house, rolling her eyes at the loud music emitting from inside. Her sister was hosting another one of her Saturday night house raves and she was glad to be out of the house before any of that happened. It was unbelievable how much her sister was able to get away with. She could barely sneak outside without her parents catching her but her sister could hold alcohol fueled parties without her parents suspecting a thing? There was something definitely wrong about that.

Finally, the car she was waiting for pulled up in front of her and she smiled as she stepped into the car. Santana was driving, wearing slim sweats and a faded t-shirt of the American flag. By contrast, Quinn was wearing jeans and a shirt that displayed the Union Jack. The two boys gave her forced smiles, nodding as she waved.

"Gone a bit scruffy there, huh boys?"

Both Santana and Quinn seemed to have lost their razors over the past week, as they both sported five o'clock shadows.

"You like it though?" Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow at the younger girl.

"I don't _hate_ it." Kitty replied, smirking at the boy.

"Then it's fine." Santana shrugged, pulling into a definitely familiar driveway, "Wait, who's hosting this party again? This house looks a little familiar."

"Jake. Maybe you know his brother? Noah." Kitty said, already halfway out the car.

"Noah. Noah." Quinn repeated the name, trying to match faces in his mind.

"Oh, fuck. Puck." Santana grumbled.

"Wait, what if it's another Noah? There were other Noahs." Quinn said, "Are you sure it's Puck?"

"No, I mean, look, it's actually Puck."

Quinn looked to where Santana was pointing, and sure enough, holding the door of the house open for Kitty, was Noah Puckerman, the football star and frequent hookup of the two boys back in their high school façade days.

"I think I might actually puke." Santana said, getting out of the car.

"I think I already did." Quinn added, following close behind.

"Hey dudes." Puck smirked as the two boys reached the door.

"Hey… dude." Santana said, attempting to smile at the other boy without showing too much disgust.

Puck frowned for a moment, craning his neck and staring at Santana's face before turning and staring at Quinn's.

"I don't think I've seen you here before?"

"Oh, Charlie and I, we've graduated last year." Santana said, motioning to his friend.

"We don't live in Lima." Quinn said.

"Well, Lima's not really interesting so there's not much you're missing. Anyways, I graduated last year too. Maybe I've seen you at games or something. You two look a bit… familiar?"

Smiling, Puck led the boys inside and to the basement, where the kids they saw in the Glee room were scattered around. Some of the newer faces they did not recognize were busy playing beer pong at a further table while the kids they did remember from the previous year were gathered around a table.

"Hey, join us, guys!" Sam called, patting the space next to him.

Reluctantly, the two boys took a seat around the table as Puck sat down next to Sam. Brittany grinned as she poured vodka from a clear bottle into small, plastic shot glasses.

"Russian vodka. This stuff's potent." Puck said, flashing his teeth at the girls around the table, "And here's to a game of Never Have I Ever."

"What's that?" Rory asked, scratching his chin, "I'm not quite familiar with that game."

"You've never played Never Have I Ever? Dude, go play beer pong with the others." Sam laughed as Rory frowned.

"Just explain it to him." Artie sighed.

"Basically, you say "Never Have I Ever" and then something you've never done, and the people who have done it have to take a shot." Blaine explained, "And the point is to be the most sober."

"The point is to be the most _drunk_, dude!" Puck howled, high-fiving Sam.

"Yeah, well, I've explained." Blaine huffed.

"I'll start off." Sam grinned, "Never have I ever… had super short hair."

Puck, Rory, and Santana took a shot, Rory and Santana wincing as the alcohol hit the back of their throat as Puck merely cheered.

"Make it more interesting!" Sugar cried, "My turn! Never have I ever… kissed a girl!"

All the boys at the table exchanged looks, as did Brittany, and they knocked their shot glasses back, an audible hiss from all the boys (and Brittany) filling the noisy room. Even Blaine took the shot, turning pink when the others stared at him in disbelief.

"I had this one phase where I thought I was bi. Met a girl, went to second base, then found out there was a third base and cried the way home. Sight will never leave me."

He shivered, eyes shut as he tried to block the visual imagery.

"Well, I guess that last Never Have I Ever calls for the flip side." Rory laughed, "Never have I ever kissed a guy."

Quinn and Santana exchanged nervous glasses before mutually deciding, "Fuck it," and tossing back their drinks. To their shock, so did Sam and Artie, and to their not-shock, so did the girls and Blaine.

"So Puck and I are the only boys playing this game who haven't kissed a guy?" Rory laughed, "Interesting."

"Hey, it's all part of the high school process." Artie said, "And it was more of an accident in my case."

"Mine was for a show." Sam grinned, "Wasn't as terrible as I thought it'd be."

"How about you boys?" Puck asked, pointing at Santana and Quinn.

"Dare." They both said in unison.

"Ah, the age old dare." Puck laughed, "So I'm possibly the only other guy here who hasn't kissed a guy, huh? Good to know. Speaking of which, we should totally move on to spinning the ol' bottle."

"That's so lame." Artie sighed, crossing his arms, "Nobody plays that."

"Well, we're getting wasted so the least we can do for ourselves is have some seven minutes in heaven."

"I agree." Sugar grinned, holding up an empty beer bottle.

"Let's do it then!" Rory said, clapping, already turning red from the vodka.

Within the first thirty minutes, Sam spun Kitty, Kitty spun Artie, Artie spun Sugar, and Sugar spun Puck. After Sugar and Puck returned from the adjacent guest room they used as "the room," Puck eagerly held the bottle in his hands, ready to spin. As the bottle came to a stop, Santana sat petrified as the bottle landed on him.

"Well, come on, then." Puck shrugged, getting up, "Seven minutes in heaven is seven minutes in heaven."

Quinn flinched for his friend, knowing that Santana was still petrified at the memories of having to pretend to like him back in high school and all those times hooking up with the football player. He hoped Santana had enough drinks in him not to care, but the frightened expression in the boy's eyes told him otherwise. Still, the alcohol he had consumed prevented him from being able to stand up and stop them from going into the room, so he closed his eyes and dug deep into his past Christian roots and begged for a miracle.

Once the door shut, Puck turned around with his arms crossed and sighed.

"This is gonna be so weird, dude. I mean, if you were feminine or something, like, I don't know, Ru Paul or something, maybe it'd be easier to like visualize you as a chick or something so this won't be so weird but –"

"We can just not." Santana said, gritting his teeth, "I'd really prefer us not to."

"Hey, it's no big deal. It's just a stupid kiss." Puck said, "For like seven minutes."

"We can just say we did but not do it." Santana continued.

"Woah, woah, I take my party games real seriously." Puck joked, "I mean, if it's uncomfortable we don't have to. Since we're both dudes there's probably some loop hole somewhere."

Santana sat at the edge of the bed, tapping his foot silently as Puck sat down next to him. Puck had a concentrated look on his face as he stared at Santana's foot move.

"I guess we'll just sit here for seven minutes then." Puck said, "Didn't catch your name. I'm who they call Puck."

"Santana." Santana replied absently, before opening his eyes in shock and trying to backtrack, "I meant San. Just, just San."

Puck narrowed his eyes, standing up as he held on to Santana's shoulders and looked into his face. Santana tried to face away but still, Puck held on.

"Fuck. I knew that I knew you." Puck said slowly, "Fuck, I do know you. You're, you're Santana. From high school. Cheer captain. You were… you were my _girlfriend_ for a little-"

"I'm not a fucking _girl_!" Santana seethed, looking Puck directly in the eye.

Slowly, Puck closed his mouth and stepped back, before laughing to himself. With another silence between them, Puck took a seat next to Santana.

"I get it."

"No you don't." Santana growled.

"No, like, I mean, I see what you mean. You're transgendered." Puck smiled, putting an arm around Santana.

Confused, Santana turned his head and stared at his old friend.

"How are you not freaking out right now?"

"Well, honestly speaking, I would've been really, _really_ freaked out, but the last year kinda changed my perspective on things. I'm actually majoring in gender studies and this subject came up. Don't ask me about my major. I just needed one since I got through to college on a football scholarship. And reading shit in books definitely doesn't make me the expert on this shit but… I respect that. I respect _you_. That's… that's some intense shit you're going through and I respect that."

Puck grinned when Santana looked away.

"Obviously I'm a little mind-blown and I'll need to adjust a little but you're a guy and I won't disrespect that. Don't look so shocked! You're making me feel like I'm supposed to be a bad guy. And that Charlie dude is Quinn, right?"

"…yeah."

"God, I should've seen this coming. Honestly, when we were going out back in high school, I can't tell you how many times I told my friends that dating you was like dating one of them."

"Yeah, well, I didn't come out in high school."

"Hey, I'll have your back."

Santana forced a smile back at the boy. He didn't know how to react at Puck's easy acceptance. If anything, he expected Puck's reaction to be more… harsh. Although he wanted to believe that the boy meant the things he said, he knew that there was a huge difference between saying words and meaning them.

Suddenly, a strange look washed over Puck's features, and he quickly reached for a vodka bottle placed on the bedside of the room, pouring himself a shot.

"What are you doing?" Santana asked, frowning.

"Well, remember how we "dated" back in high school?"

"Right." Santana said, not liking where this was going.

"Oh, it's not about that. I mean, we made out a lot. So I guess that means I kinda unintentionally lied in that game of Never Have I Ever. I mean, I made out with you, right? So I _did_ make out with a guy after all."

Puck downed the shot, holding the empty cup in the air as Santana laughed at his wild gestures.

"Like I said, I take my party games very seriously." Puck joked, patting his friend on the back the moment a knock on the door signaled the end of the seven minutes.

As they walked out, Santana paused and grinned at Puck.

"You know, you're a good guy."

"Yeah, well, I'm a lot of things." Puck winked, "But lay off dude, I'm not gay."

Both laughing, Santana walked back into the party with Puck, feeling light in his smile for the first time that night. Puck wasn't the perfect person. He was stubborn, loud, and incredibly obnoxious. Still, if there was one thing Santana couldn't deny, it was that Puck wasn't blinded by ignorance like a lot of people he came across.

When Puck flashed him a grin for reassurance, Santana smiled back, knowing that Puck, for all his mistakes and his headstrong nature, saw him as he was – a man.

And that was good enough.


End file.
